A Secret Purchase in
Paris
Dateline:
Paris 1960. Your correspondent, moi (this is Paris,
France, not Paris, Lamar County, Texas), wanders into a bookstore on the Rive
Gauche. He purchases a copy of Henry
Miller's "Tropic of Cancer," a book outlawed in the U.S. The people who run HBO were not yet born. Puerile youngster correspondent wraps the book
in plain brown paper (not a bag) and packs it in the bottom of his suitcase
under his underwear. Despite the absence
of salacious or enticing blurbs on the cover or lurid descriptions in essays
about Miller's literary oeuvre, the allure at that time to own a copy of "Tropic
of Cancer" was simply that it was banned.
Your
correspondent did not purchase James Joyce's "Ulysses" in the
bookstore. Why would he? In 1933, "Ulysses" was no longer
banned in the U.S. District Court Judge
John M. Woolsey, in a decision that reflected thoughtful legal analysis and discerning
literary criticism, ruled that "Ulysses" was not obscene. I urge you to read the entire decision. (U.S.
v. One Book Called "Ulysses" 5 F.Supp. 182 (S.D.N.Y. 1933).) Here are some passages:
"I have read 'Ulysses' once in its
entirety and I have read those passages of which the Government particularly
complains several times. In fact, for
many weeks, my spare time has been devoted to the consideration of the decision
which my duty would require me to make in this matter.
"'Ulysses' is not an easy book to
read or to understand. But there has been much written about it, and in order
properly to approach the consideration of it is advisable to read a number of
other books which have now become its satellites. The study of 'Ulysses' is, therefore, a heavy
task.
"The
reputation of 'Ulysses' in the literary world, however, warranted my taking
such time as was necessary to enable me to satisfy myself as to the intent with
which the book was written, for, of course, in any case where a book is claimed
to be obscene it must first be determined, whether the intent with which it was
written was what is called, according to the usual phrase, pornographic, — that
is, written for the purpose of exploiting obscenity. [¶] …
"In writing 'Ulysses,' Joyce
sought to make a serious experiment in a new, if not wholly novel, literary
genre. He takes persons of the lower
middle class living in Dublin in 1904 and seeks not only to describe what they
did on a certain day early in June of that year as they went about the City
bent on their usual occupations, but also to tell what many of them thought
about the while.
"Joyce has attempted — it seems to
me, with astonishing success — to show how the screen of consciousness with its
ever-shifting kaleidoscopic impressions carries, as it were on a plastic
palimpsest, not only what is in the focus of each man's observation of the
actual things about him, but also in a penumbral zone residua of past
impressions, some recent and some drawn up by association from the domain of
the subconscious. He shows how each of these impressions affects the life and
behavior of the character which he is describing.
"What he seeks to get is not
unlike the result of a double or, if that is possible, a multiple exposure on a
cinema film which would give a clear foreground with a background visible but
somewhat blurred and out of focus in varying degrees.
"To convey by words an effect
which obviously lends itself more appropriately to a graphic technique,
accounts, it seems to me, for much of the obscurity which meets a reader of 'Ulysses.'
And it also explains another aspect of the book, which I have further to
consider, namely, Joyce's sincerity and his honest effort to show exactly how
the minds of his characters operate.
"If Joyce did not attempt to be
honest in developing the technique which he has adopted in 'Ulysses' the result
would be psychologically misleading and thus unfaithful to his chosen
technique. Such an attitude would be
artistically inexcusable. [¶] …
"'Ulysses' may, therefore, be
admitted into the United States."
(PP. 183-185.)
JOHN
M. WOOLSEY
United States District Judge
United States District Judge
The U.S. 2nd Circuit Court of Appeals affirmed. I trust the appellate panel read "Ulysses"
with the care given by Judge Woolsey.
One particular paragraph of Judge Woolsey's decision caught my attention
in light of certain phenomena occurring on college campuses.
It
has been reported that students are requesting their professors to post
warnings about potentially offensive works of literature they have been
assigned to read. This caught me by surprise.
Literature is still taught in
universities? In kindergarten, kids with
pushy parents are planning their careers in scientific, technical and business fields,
in the hope of making a living. But for
the literature courses offered, I can see on the cover of "Hamlet": "Warning!
Contains scenes of violence, poisoning,
murder and mayhem." "Pride and
Prejudice": "Warning! Contains refined language, exemplary grammar,
and cultivated manners."
Judge
Woolsey's penultimate paragraph would be a good warning for "Ulysses."
Woolsey wrote: "I am quite
aware that owing to some of its scenes 'Ulysses' is a rather strong draught to
ask some sensitive, though normal, persons to take. But my considered opinion, after long
reflection, is that whilst in many places the effect of 'Ulysses' on the reader
undoubtedly is somewhat emetic, nowhere does it tend to be an aphrodisiac." (P. 185.)
Students
with queasy stomachs could take Pepto-Bismol before diving into "Ulysses."
How
ironic that with more freedom of expression some students seek to curb freedom
of expression. Literature goads us into
thinking about the human condition, our culture and the world. It may and often does make us uncomfortable
and it challenges us to question our prejudices and preconceptions. It gives us insight, makes us more complete
human beings, and enables us to better excel in all our endeavors.
And this takes me back to the "Tropic
of Cancer" and other writings of
Henry Miller. There is much to admire in
his works. But his writing can be
rambling, and I do not care for his demeaning portrayals of women. That does not mean he should not be
read. His graphic descriptions, in fact,
could compel readers to champion equality for women. By happenstance, I came to know a few of
Miller's women friends, including his ex-wife. They all spoke of him with such tenderness and
affection. Apparently women fared better
in his real life than they did in his novels.
It was not until 1964, the year I
was admitted to practice law in California, that the U.S. Supreme Court ruled "Tropic
of Cancer" was not obscene. But
four years earlier, your correspondent and his copy of "Tropic of Cancer"
got through customs. And then I attended
law school. When I tired of reading "Williston
on Contracts," I read a chapter or two of "Tropic of Cancer." More lively than promissory estoppel.
Postscript. A favor: If the statute of limitations has not run,
please keep the incident about my purchase in Paris under your hat.
